


revolutions

by nysscientia



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Gen, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 14:25:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1691537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nysscientia/pseuds/nysscientia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(revolution, <em>noun</em>: […] 3. a sudden, complete or marked change in something; 4. a procedure or course, as if in a circuit, back to a starting point; 5. a single turn of this kind.)</p><p>-</p><p>The other boy had eyed Tony's project warily.</p><p>“You broke it,” he said.</p><p>“No, it was already broken,” Tony argued.  “I’m fixing it.”</p><p>The boy’s crayons had stopped then.  “You can fix it?”</p><p>Tony shrugged, not wanting an interruption.  “Maybe.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	revolutions

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting to AO3, so let me know if I'm missing important tags or warnings; unbetaed, so give me a heads up if you notice errors. This work owes a debt to [Aubrey](http://archiveofourown.org/users/aubkae/pseuds/aubkae) for making me upset over Tony Stark and helping me grow brave enough to publish, and can thank a kind Tumblr anon for finding its way into the archive.

2.

Tony can’t remember, looking back, exactly who the kid was or where they met. He always pictures the mansion, polished and shining the way it was for dinner parties, but that doesn’t quite add up because Dad’s colleagues never brought their children.

He remembers their conversation, though, with perfect clarity. He can still see the kid’s big hazel eyes, light and clear. He’d had a small pad of paper and a box of crayons, which Tony found intriguing because they were so foreign: big and bright and heavy in his hands. The boy was content to share as long as Tony didn’t touch the green– he might’ve been drawing trees– which was no problem; Tony went straight for the red and orange. Tony abandoned them within a minute or two, though, when he realized the lines they made were blocky and stuttering, incomplete and imprecise.

He went back to his deconstructed radio, back panel pried off and resistors scattered across the floor like bits of candy.

The other boy had eyed his project warily.

“You broke it,” he said.

“No, it was already broken,” Tony argued. “I’m fixing it.”

The boy’s crayons had stopped then. He carried his beloved green with him as he came to look at the circuit board in Tony’s hands. “You can fix it?”

Tony shrugged, not wanting an interruption. “Maybe.”

The boy had watched him with suspicion after that, coloring at half tempo so that he could watch Tony’s radio.

-

(revolution, _noun_ : […] 3. a sudden, complete or marked change in something; 4. a procedure or course, as if in a circuit, back to a starting point; 5. a single turn of this kind.)

-

3.

People keep telling Tony he’s ready for MIT, that it’s time, that it’s the place for him and he’ll do incredible things. They talk about it so much he can tell none of them are sure if they mean it.

During his first class, some intro something he was vaguely indignant he couldn’t test out of, he corrects the professor so many times he’s asked to leave.

Everyone on campus knows which one is Howard Stark’s kid by the end of the week.

-

14.

Tony’s at a senate hearing, and people keep interrupting him. To be fair, he’s interrupting them, too. Fairness doesn’t seem to be a focal point in this hearing, though, so Tony figures he’s probably okay letting that point slide.

They bring in Hammer, in his snake oil three-piece suit, masquerading as Tony’s peer. They ask Rhodey questions and ignore his answers.

Eventually, Tony hijacks their tech and humiliates them all. It’s a cheap victory, but when people fight dirty, he fights back.

During the helicopter ride home, he wishes no one had asked in the first place.

-

7.

There are glasses all over the workbench, tumblers and mugs and paper cups from when he ordered out instead of stopping to make a fresh pot. They clatter as Tony shoves them all out of the way. Something smashes; he’s not sure what. Everything’s sweet and slippery, a little soft at the edges, like looking through a magnifying glass– appropriate, because Tony can see _everything_ , colors and geometry and quantum mechanics in action.

His heart’s racing. Tech flickers behind his eyes in the way it does sometimes, so he rushes, wants to record it all before he loses anything. He’s forgotten more revolutionary engineering than MIT’s (other) top students could study in a lifetime.

“Jarvis,” he purrs. The ‘r’ is stickier than usual, and he’s having trouble reaching the right points of light on the interface and he might still be a little drunk.

He grabs a tablet from– from somewhere– because a nice solid screen sounds like a good idea. He sketches in scraps of schematics and fragments of data, all while dictating to Jarvis; numbers and circuitry and future million-dollar patents pour out of him like sweat, like breath.

-

2 (cont.).

Eventually, Tony’d gotten all the pieces of the radio back in place. He wasn’t strong enough to screw the back panel on, so he just held it; the outside cover wasn’t what made it work anyway. He twisted the knob, and staticy music poured out.

“I did it!” he had cried, then.

The other boy had stared at him with wide eyes, crayons fisted in his hands.

“You’re lucky you’re so smart,” he told Tony. “Everyone listens to smart people.”

Tony remembers the conversation at odd times– board meetings and galas with military brass and conference calls with Obie. He sometimes wonders who the boy was, but his best bet at figuring that out would be Pepper, and he never thinks of it when she’s around.

-

1.

Tony doesn’t remember when or why Howard said it, or even if he said it directly to Tony. But he remembers the sound of Howard’s voice exactly, his inflection, the stress on the syllables.

“No one can deny the best,” he’d said.

-

11.

When Tony gets out of the cave, Rhodey’s the one who finds him. In the desert wind, it’s suffocating to curl up in Rhodey’s arms.

Pepper meets him as soon as he steps off the plane, prompt as always, and her eyes shine wetly.

Happy says, “sure thing, Boss,” in the same tone of voice he’s always had, but his eyes might be a little overbright, too.

Even though he and Obie disagree about the direction of the company, Tony feels protection in Obie’s hands pulling him from the podium. He appreciates the sentiment.

Then, finally, he steps into the workshop and breathes deep.

-

5.

Tony is twenty, a darling of the club circuit, and it’s funny how the tabloids have given up on noting that he’s underage. Bouncers, bartenders, politicians, strippers– no one pretends not to recognize him, anymore, which saves everyone the trouble of him digging up an ID.

If he spends a few hours in his workshop, the US Military climbs into his pocket; researchers ring his phone off the hook like so many jilted girlfriends; Obie rests a big hand on his shoulder and smiles that gruff smile before boarding another plane.

If he slips on enormous sunglasses and orders designer booze for the house, the board is happy to give him his time; Howard’s old friends wonder idly where he’s gotten off to (as though they didn’t read it on page six); girls and boys and strangers whose names he never learns giggle and squirm on his satin sheets.

No one denies him, and he knows what that means.

-

15.

People like Tony pick up titles like comets pick up orbitals.

Stark Industries was a top contributor to a variety of charitable organizations for years before Afghanistan, but Tony didn’t really start paying attention until he got back to American soil. After, he consulted with Pepper, did a lot of his own research– well, Jarvis did a lot of his own research– and rearranged things to make sure SI money was going to people other than military brats whose parents funneled dollars straight back into Tony’s pockets. He still remembers the first time Pepper used the word ‘philanthropist’ to describe him in a press release with a soft smile instead of a bitter expression on her face.

Tony was People’s Sexiest Man Alive twice before any of that, once before he had even really assumed his position as head of Stark Industries. The title didn’t really have any effect on his nightlife; women who’d be impressed by a magazine cover stopped holding his attention long before gossip rags started calling him a playboy.

Before he was in social magazines, he was in engineering ones– and occasionally a publication like Forbes would pick up a story about himself and Howard. Tony figured out they were wealthy at a very early age. Older, maybe, than one would expect of a kid as smart as Tony– but as he learned, people are more aware of a lack than they ever are of money itself. So it took awhile for the significance of a word like ‘billionaire’ to sink in.

Tony was born smart, though, and as far as he can tell he was also born knowing it. So when Captain Goddamned America asks him what he is besides the Iron Man, the first word out of his mouth is ‘genius.’

-

8.

Tony’s quite literally got explosions down to a science. He still didn’t expect the Hummer in front of his to burst into flame.

-

4.

At graduation, everyone recognizes him, the kid with the stubbly goatee and a rakish grin. No one asks for a picture with him, which is a relief because he’s so hungover that the cheap disposable flashes make him nauseous. The reporters are less courteous– which, frankly, is nothing new.

-

13.

When his test flights are a resounding success, Tony wants to explain what he’s doing. But Rhodey interrupts him every time he starts talking, eventually sends his calls to voicemail.

Pepper’s jaw clenches whenever she sees the armor.

Obie steals the tech he designed for salvation and turns it into a weapon.

-

18.

Each suit is worth millions of dollars. They’re pretty when they blow.

Tony holds back a laugh bordering on hysterical, standing in an old shipyard, watching them go. It’s the most expensive fireworks show he’s ever put on, probably the most expensive one in human history, and the audience is comprised of himself, Pepper, and the bodies of all the people who died trying to hurt them.

-

9.

The cave’s smothering and everything has his name on it but the rocks. For a split second, he considers giving up. But he’s got a battery connected to his chest that he hasn’t paid for, and a lot of people have his stuff who never should’ve gotten it.

So instead of guttering out in the darkness and damp, Tony shoves nuclear weapon guts into his chest and jump-starts his own heart.

-

16.

Less than a nation away, halfway around the world, off of this world altogether, inside his own company– Tony’s found that no matter where he meets them, he’s not a fan of terrorists. He finds their condescending speeches narcissistic and boring; he’s not impressed by the way they steal and pervert his tech into monsters; he’s categorically opposed to the way they threaten his home and his loved ones. Doesn’t have much patience for them, all around.

When he’s leaving the hospital, the camera flashes burn out his vision, leaving it purple and white, a vacant space with way too much room for him to remember the way Happy looked in his bed with its paper sheets and jell-o snacks.

The reporters ask him what he intends to do about the Mandarin. It’s faster just to show them, so he rattles off an address.

-

6.

Tony peels his face off the sofa, adds it to his list of stained furniture due for replacement and ‘drowning’ to his list of ways to never die. He finds dried vomit in the joint of his sunglasses. There’s more in his hair.

He showers and dresses; the board’s waiting.

-

10.

The air is heavy and gritty and practically indistinguishable from the water they keep plunging his head into. His own dried blood flakes off of everything he touches. It would probably destroy a lesser man. Hell, it would probably destroy a greater man.

During his escape, Tony watches the greater man flicker out. So he burns the men who drowned him, turns water into gasoline. It turns out that being the best means he actually can perform miracles.

Not in time for it to count, but he can.

-

17.

“That was– really violent,” Pepper says. Tony can only imagine the adoration on his face at that, but he can’t help himself– she’s always been his superior for summarizing.

-

12.

He hasn’t left the mansion since that first press conference, but everyone’s certain he’s changed, or that he’s been changed. He hears a lot of speculation about what’s different about him and tries not to join in. The gauntlet on his arm is new, because the project’s always new, but at its core the setting’s the same as always: a screwdriver in his hand and a screen spilling pale blue light across the floor.

He finishes tightening a joint and tests the flexibility. The servos glide perfectly. No one else on the planet could’ve developed a system like it.

The light from the TV shifts from studio backdrop blue to harsh desert gold, and although the reporters didn’t get close enough to make out his logo, he recognizes his designs anywhere. Besides, no one else on the planet could’ve designed weapons that terrorize villagers quite like that.

He decides maybe the problem lies in what hasn’t changed, smashes the shop’s windows, and rockets into the sky.


End file.
